


Speak Oceans With the Tide of Your Voice

by bbcsherlockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, POV John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbcsherlockian/pseuds/bbcsherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tainted with golden light but unintelligible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Oceans With the Tide of Your Voice

I breathe in the scent of you as you brush past my elbow - you smell of rain, latex and coffee - and I realise that I will never want to smell another thing again (you are home you are comfort you are everything to me now let me breathe you in let me just). I understand that you are romantically unattached (i don’t i don’t understand at all), and that The Work occupies all of your priorities, but I can’t seem to stop leaning into the space you filled not seconds ago (it’s magnetic you are my north draw me in). Words and phrases wash over me, through me, but they filter through my head, in one side and out the other (can’t you see your sentences i couldn’t let them in i am too inept for you). I’m trying to listen to your elegant, flourishing deductions (i don’t want to miss this it’s when you’re most alive) but you’re flying far too fast for my meagre wings and I’m lost inside my own head (drowning in thoughts that i’ll never share with you thank god my skull is in the way).

A subconscious hand reaches up into tangled curls (you’re too occupied elsewhere you say it’s all transport but it’s what sews you together) and I am thankful that my roaming gaze goes unnoticed. It’s you, I realise, it’s all you (untouchable perfect yet lonely and slightly crumpled in the middle i understand i’ve always understood we’re nothing apart but two halves will always make a brilliant whole). I had always believed that it was the thrum of this city and the adventures it has to offer that kept me here, but the harsh reality (it’s not harsh it’s wonderful) is that’s it’s you; one man (you’re so so much more than that) has kept me breathing through it all. 

You said, once, that I should never disillusion myself by creating a hero out of you. You aren’t (in the conventional sense), but that doesn’t stop me wanting to complete you with me (to fuse our atoms together and contain an energy a light that has never been possible before we could do it you know we could). You’re still talking and I’m still trying to listen (the melody of your voice washes through me like the tide the waves are beautiful and tainted with golden light but unintelligible).

Your eyebrows have furrowed (i want to smoothen the creases on your face with the lightest touch of my fingertips) and the air lingers with a question left unanswered. I stand and cross the short distance between us (agonisingly far why are you not closer to me) and place my palm on your shoulder (the litany of murderers and mud identifications stops as you inhale). My mouth chases the frozen words back into yours (we’re soaring on this one breath there is no space between us but we are still miles apart) and I watch you melt under all the places where we touch. There is a moment of agony where you pause and I imagine that even your heart has forgotten to beat out its own symphony (was this wrong you never wanted me like th-), until you reciprocate more eagerly than I would have imagined. You’re tugging at my arms, my waist, my ribs (we’re still fighting to claim what we both need let me suffocate in everything that you are) and my hands have found themselves in the deceptively soft haven atop your head. 

You’re pushing, I’m pulling (the floor has trickled away into a plain of nothingness all we have here is you and me i’ll hold you tight) and suddenly we find ourselves falling, tripping over furniture that I had forgotten had existed, sprawling together on the ground. The motion forces us apart (but nothing could keep me far from you i promise i promise) and suddenly we’re laughing at the broken coffee table, and everything is perfectly, wonderfully hilarious (the knot in my chest unravels for the first time in weeks and the shine in your eyes captivates me in it’s unabashed openness). Your breath tickles my mouth again and as I stare up at you everything

absolutely everything

is amazingly

impeccably

right.


End file.
